Fighting Back
by ToadstoolTales
Summary: Hermione has spent years making the most of her alternative education all across the world. Suddenly, she's offered a job with the Weasley twins, and while she believes it's a chance to return to a mundane lifestyle, working with the twins is anything but- especially after Fred begins to catch her eye. FW/HG Non-Epilogue Compliant.
1. Chapter 1

As the elevator pinged, and opened, Hermione stalked down the hallway. She had to look powerful enough that people would feel uncomfortable staring at her for long, and stay quiet enough that she didn't draw attention to those not already looking. Of course, her long red dress and impressive heels weren't helping things, but there really was no other way to dress in one of the grandest hotels in Wizarding Europe. Though, having spent the last two nights there, she was pretty sure it topped everything muggle Europe had to offer as well.

With her wand strapped tightly to her leg- covered by a chameleon charm so people just-quite didn't see it- Hermione took a quick turn to the left as the corridor split. She glanced behind her, pleased that the hallway remained clear. When you were Hermione Granger, and in wizard territory, it wasn't unusual to have a couple of well meaning magic folk following you around. She learnt quickly to sympathise with Harry, and had also referred to herself as 'Just-Hermione', several times before realising. Reaching the door number 3002, she stopped abruptly

Without hesitation, she deftly pulled a hair pin from her hair bun, though closer inspection would show this wasn't just any hair pin. In fact, if the various charms disguising it were lifted, one would see that it was a strange collection of metal pins, each of slightly different shapes with a slight hook on the end. These were tiny however, and whilst they were sat beneath a hair pin, were well hidden by her elaborate hair style. Which was, of course, entirely the point.

One more glance around, and Hermione got to work using the tools on the door in front of her. Something she was always proud of was that wizards always underestimated muggle technology. The door had hundreds of charms and enchantments on it to prevent any form of spell work or relics being used on it. Even waving your wand in an odd way near a door would send Security to your floor, if it wasn't your wand assigned to the room. It certainly made late night rendezvous more tricky, but it was common practice across hotels, so most people were used to it. It's the drunken ones who ended up with some nasty hexes.

In this particular hotel though, the doors had been sourced from the muggle world, as well as fitted by muggles. All of this was done before the magical enhancements were added, and of course, the muggles memories were altered when finished- with a nice surprise 'tip' from their mysterious client that allowed all working in the company to buy new cars and houses- but meant that there were still locks on the doors. It had stopped the hotel owners from placing a sticking charm on the door too. A fatal flaw in security, noticeable only by those familiar with the muggle world, and only those particularly observant.

With a small 'click', the door finally opened. Hermione felt a smirk grow on her features, satisfied with her quick work and mentally congratulating herself. She replaced the pin within her hair, and quickly rushed inside and closed the door, keeping the lights off, and allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark.

That was the easy part done. Now for the safe.

As she expected, by moving into the living room area she was greeted by the sight of a safe. Completely out of place in the otherwise sleek room, and atop a glass table that did not look like it would support the weight, she ignored the glorious panoramic views offered by the room itself, and processed what she would have to do to get the safe open.

It was quite large. Half a metre cubed in size, though judging on the size of the door it was probably half the size due to the width of the walls. This was usually for a number of reasons, most simply that it made to too heavy to move easily, but also made it quite tricky to drill through, or damage in anyway. Fronting the door, sat a complex looking old-school combination lock. Looking at the make though - muggle, of course - it was one that took a twelve digit combination, which was less than guessable. Running the numbers in her head, she had a 1 in 479001600 chance of guessing it. She would have to narrow those odds pretty quickly.

Now was the time for her wand, which she pulled out cautiously to cast a very gentle diagnostic charm.

OH.

Well that was simple.

'Alohamora', she muttered. With an awkwardly loud groan, the combination lock began twisting, left, right, left, again and again until it finally stopped.

Hermione reached forward to open the door slowly. This felt far too easy for usual, but there was no magical signature on the door at all. Either the impossible had been achieved- that magic could be hidden in its entirety- or it simply contained no magic. But why wouldn't it?

Swinging the door open, Hermione quickly understood why.

There, small, but angry, sat what she immediately recognised as a bomb.

Attached to the door had been a form of trip wire, and opening it set off the timer of three minutes, which blinked angrily at her in typically red digital writing.

Hermione laughed.

She quickly slapped a hand to her mouth to muffle the sound, but continued to chortle under her breath, her shoulders heaving up and down. To a bystander, this might be seen as insanity. Indeed, she seemed barely concerned by the countdown, too busy containing her own laughter. She twirled her wand between her fingers, her amused face never ceasing, and without any hesitation or further inspection, pointed it at the bomb.

Silently, a blue wire immediately severed, and the timer stopped.

Hermione found this even more funny. Still trying to remain relatively quiet, she continued to laugh until her eyes were watering and her sides were sore.

After wiping her eyes, she moved forward again and took the bomb out of the safe, placing it on the table beside it.

Underneath, lay, as she knew it would, not jewels, not money or relics, but a single letter, with H.J.G. emblazoned on the top.

She picked up the letter, a single piece of parchment folded in half, and ambled over to the sofa, plonking herself down and putting her feet immediately up on the coffee table.

'Aha!'

Someone exclaimed, causing Hermione to throw her letter to her side and dive for her wand. She was up in battle position, wand pointed towards the noise, a perfect fighting stance, eyes narrowing in the dark, without any hesitation, a number of curses ready to fly at any provocation.

'No! Oh you idiot look what you've done!'

The voices came from a room to the left, which Hermione knew from the schematics was the bathroom. A light came on in the open doorway, and she raised her wand higher.

A figure filled the doorway, quickly followed by a similarly built second figure. Both were gangly and tall, neither threatening, and one was glaring at the other. Adapting to the light, Hermione saw that both of them wore black from head to toe, including a black hat, with their hair tucked underneath.

'We've done this completely wrong, but we literally mean you no harm and just want to-'

'Wait a second, that's Hermione!'. One of the men flung their arm out to find a light switch, whereby light filled the whole flat, illuminating Hermione.

She did not lower her wand.

'Hermione, it's us! Its Fred and George!'

'No, it's George and Fred!'

'Shut up Gred'.

'No, you shut up Forge!'.

'Do those Legs really belong to Granger?'

'Definitely Granger, not sure she won't hex you for calling her Legs though.'

'Well you're the one who blew our cover!'

'Oh that's it, blame it on me just because I'm gorgeous'

'Gorgeous? Only when the even more gorgeous twin isn't stood next to you to show you up'.

'Oh rubbish Forge, at least I have both ears still!'

Hermione, by this point, had recognised her childhood friends. Although she couldn't understand why they were there, she did at least return her wand to its holster, and sit back down on the sofa.

'Fred. George. How are you both?' She asked, with a tentative smile. Their eyes snapped up to her, as if amid their argument, they'd forgotten she was there.

It was Fred who broke the two second stalemate, not by speech, but by action. He crossed the floor and swept her into a grand hug. In Weasley fashion, it wasn't just a normal hug, but he literally pulled her off of her feet, spinning her around and around until she couldn't help but giggle.

When he resettled her down on her feet, George was there smiling, and reached out to embrace her also, with a more subdued hug, just making sure he squeezed her extra tight, as if to make sure she was definitely there.

'Well Miss Granger, imagine our surprise that our mysterious new employee turns out to be our little brothers best friend!' George said, settling himself into an uncomfortable looking chair.

'New employee?', Hermione asked, staring at Fred until he sat down also.

'I have a feeling,' Fred said, shuffling in his seat, 'that the letter will explain much easier than we will.'.

That reminded Hermione of the matter at hand, and she lent over to retrieve the letter she'd worked so hard to achieve. Ignoring the two boys in front of her, she finally opened the letter.

 _My Dear Hermione_

 _Congratulations! Did you manage to use magic on the safe? Or did you try the muggle way first? I wish I could have been there to see you. I've charmed this letter so that when you open it I'll be alerted. If you managed it in under ten minutes I'll be impressed. More than ten minutes.. I think I'd have to disown you. It's a pass/fail exercise after all._

 _Did you like the bomb? I thought it would cheer you up, remind you of the old days. Also, it might soften the fact that I'm not actually here to meet you, as well as provide a pretty impressive demonstration of your unconventional skills to your potential new employers._

 _I can practically see you frowning. I owe you an explanation, and they're sure to be with you shortly, so I'll make it pretty quick._

 _I was approached by the two owners of a popular company a while back, due to my history and schooling._

 _They wanted my input on various explosive inventions, trickery, and other things that we're well trained in. Unfortunately, I have quite a stable job at present with the French Ministry of Magic that comes with more freedom than they could offer me. Plus, I'd have to go back to England, which I don't fancy._

 _They asked if I could recommend anyone else for the role. I knew only one person as good as me._

 _So, have a chat with them. See what they can offer (the salary- double what we earned for that job in Egypt, and far less chance of could probably push it too, being a War Heroine in their country and all that). Let me know what you decide- the usual way. Oh and do make it a challenge, I managed the last one in six minutes. Either you underestimated me or you've lost your touch. Lets hope its the former._

 _See you soon,_

 _Raven x_

Hermione looked up at the pair sat in front of her, wondering what drew them to her cousin in the first place.

'So what do you say Legs?' Fred asked eagerly. 'Fancy being our new inventor?'.


	2. Chapter 2

**IMPORTANT AUTHORS NOTE: Although this is NOT a crossover story, the school I'm describing in France is loosely based on the same model of St Trinians- kids taught all sorts of skills not taught in regular schools. They may not pass GCSE's but they know how to make a bomb. Although what I describe is much more rigid than that, and more educational, that's the background I had in mind.**

 **Thank you so much for reading! Anyway, on with it!:**

When Hermione was seven, she stared showing some strange symptoms.

Perhaps symptoms was the wrong phrase to use, but it's the terminology her parents used when they attempted to reach out to others. Their once confident, bookish young daughter, now had become a confident, bookish young girl who odd things constantly happened to.

Firstly, the boy who taunted her at school for her attitude towards school inexplicably found his hair turned pink. The same shade as the dress Hermione was wearing that day.

Then, when her mother refused her ice cream, Hermione had frowned at both her and the freezer, only for the door to fly open, and the ice cream fling out straight to her bowl. A content Hermione had continued as if this was perfectly normal, but her parents had panicked amongst themselves.

It continued. The cat that scratched her disappeared, the book that confused her had dancing pictures, the monkey bars had moved to catch her when she fell.

Yet Mr and Mrs Granger had no idea how to handle- or help! their young daughter. They spoke to as many people as they dared to, without having themselves committed to a mental asylum, but had no luck, and no answers. Hermione on the other hand, just seemed to have more and more happen to her, with absolutely no fear.

On a rare letter that Mrs Granger wrote to her sister, she mentioned one of the occurrences. It was something small, a daisy chain made by Hermione that she could have sworn grew on its own- but she _must have been going mad, because that doesn't actually happen!_ and that was when everything suddenly changed.

Mrs Granger had spoken to her sister only sporadically over the last ten years or so, after she'd opened some bizarre school. It wasn't as if it was the school that was the problem, but the strange things on the curriculum, the amount of time it took, and the odd comments from the French equivalent of OFSTED. Instead of asking awkward questions about what on earth was going on, they'd just fallen out of touch a little. Mrs Granger was hesitant to take her child to a school that appeared to have more explosions than was healthy, and thus, their conversation had been stilted somewhat.

To her surprise then, her sister- named Phoenix, which Mrs Granger always found rather apt, that her sensible name (Jean), had resulted in her sensibleness, whereas her sister was called _Phoenix_ for goodness sakes, and was a little bit mad, appeared less than a week after the letter was sent, her daughter in tow, insisting some rubbish about having Raven and Hermione get to know each other. When Mr Granger stuttered something about a spare room not being tidy, he received a 'Nonsense! I can tidy myself!' from Phoenix, followed by a stream of french complaints that Mrs Granger understood to be about men's odd decisions. Poor Mr Granger must have assumed the French was about him, having never learnt his wife's first language, but shuffled the absurdly heavy bags into the guest rooms all the same.

By the next morning, Phoenix had swept off to the park with both Hermione and Raven, the second breakfast was over.

'Come on Hermione,' Raven had encouraged, having taken an instant dislike to the young girl. 'We'll have such fun! I'll push you on the swings'.

Four hours later, she returned, encouraging the children to play in the back garden whilst she spoke to Mrs Granger.

'Jeanie,', Phoenix started, with a soft look that she recognised usually meant some sensitive news. 'I know what it is that's making Hermione different.'.

That was the beginning. Aunt Phoenix had already explained to Hermione that she was a witch, and after a long conversation with her sister, finally convinced her too. Phoenix herself wasn't a witch- but her eleven year old daughter Raven had just completed her first year at Beauxbatons. It would definitely seem that the women side of the family was the magical one, even if it skipped an generation.

Jean immediately agreed to let Hermione spend the summer with her older sister before Raven went back to school, so she could get used to what was causing her difference. Hermione never understood why her Mum never told her Dad, but she was an instant friend with Raven and couldn't wait to learn more.

Instantly, it was clear that Hermione was going to learn a lot. It was unlikely to be about her powers however. No, instead, the education came from the girls living at the school Aunt Phoenix ran. Most girls were magical, but not all. But nearly every one of them came out of the school career and went into work with a government, in some form of high paid, secretive job.

So whereas it was still a surprise to learn about Hogwarts, and an even larger surprise for her Dad, Hermione had spent at least half of every holiday at home in France since then. And it's a well known fact- Hermione Granger learnt fast.

That's what lead to the games that Raven and Hermione now played. Both had worked for governments due to their intelligence - Raven was quite happy as a spy, as glamorous as she could be, without muggle governments needing to know her fantastic camouflage was a well disguised spell here and there- and Hermione had fled the UK media attention, to flaunt it elsewhere, gathering information abroad to feed back to the government. It wasn't her first choice, but it got her gorgeous places to stay, a fair few parties, and a sense she was still fighting for justice.

That's what prompted the games though. Both loved trying to best each other and try new skills. Hermione knew she'd only got through the recent trial so easy because she'd been willing to try both muggle and wizarding methods, whereas Raven favoured wizarding. It was their way of keeping in touch though, of making sure even though they weren't able to speak face to face without arising suspicion, they could still exchange letters. If one caught wind that the other was in the same country, a message would be sent with a location, and the challenge therein was not to get caught. So far, Hermione was winning- she'd been caught once in Russia, and forced to spell her way out of the situation, whereas Raven's impulsiveness meant she'd been caught four times.

Whether this counted being 'caught' or not was another matter, Hermione mused in the present day, for Raven had set it up so that she would meet the twins, clearly unaware she already knew them. She'd never discussed much of her home life with her, enjoying the escape of the safe haven the French boarding school offered her.

'Well, her letter certainly explains some things. Not enough though', she finally said to the boys. 'Why were you looking for her to work with you in the first place?'

'We needed someone for outside-the-box-thinking. And who better than someone who regularly goes off the grid for money?' Spoke Fred.

'And, let's be honest we do have a soft spot for rule breakers.' George said with a cheeky grin.

'And how on earth did you find her in the first place?' Hermione questioned, frowning slightly.

'It wasn't necessarily a case of finding her-'

'-More she found us'

'Or more specifically-'

'Me,' finished George. He looked somewhat sheepish.

'One at a time please boys, it's been a long night. What do you mean?' Hermione slowly began rubbing her temples. It wasn't the boys that troubled her, but the shift from the persona she'd remained in for several years, to returning to the Hermione she was used to. Secrets from these guys was nearly impossible, which felt a little strange to her.

'George dated her for about a year'. Fred replied, grinning widely. 'They broke up mutually, that neither had enough time to dedicate to the other, especially with her jetsetting off to track down criminals and the like..'

The revelation hit Hermione. She'd known Raven was dating someone she really enjoyed seeing, and knew the breakup was a joint decision, but she'd taken it badly, but it said a lot for their lifestyle that she'd never known it was a Weasley.

'Right. And you wanted her to do what?'

'Help us with products. We supply to the ministry now, so theres that. We're helping with spy kits and auror kits across the board too, so anything we can create or trial that will help is vital. Raven couldn't commit to staying in one place for any long period of time, but she said you might be interested.' George said.

'And wouldn't it be great Granger?' Fred asked. 'You could come back to England. Everyone misses you. You could stay with us at the shop, or Mum wouldn't mind if you stayed at the burrow! We'd pay you what you're getting now, and then some. The business is more successful than we ever dreamed of, and now we want to fight Dark Magic- literally, this time, not just with laughter'.

'Don't belittle the laughter', Hermione retorted instantly. 'Laughter was even more vital in the war than the physical stuff. Sure, Harry had to kill Voldemort in the end, but if people didn't laugh, or have hope- like you gave them with the radio- we'd never have succeeded at all'.

The boys seemed a little stunned by that, with the same face they had when Hermione had complimented their magic one time. Before they had a chance to respond, Hermione began speaking again:

'I'll consider your offer'.

The boys looked delighted. 'BUT,' She emphasised, holding up a hand, stopping them from speaking again. 'It's a consideration only. I'm bored of travelling now and a little stability might do me good. I refuse to commit to a time period. And I have my own flat. You can send a copy of the contract there and I'll look through it and see if I agree to your terms.'.

'Geez Hermione, you don't have to be so formal… Like, its us? It's not terms, its how you want it to be. We're practically family.'

For some reason, Hermione winced at that statement.

'I've not agreed to it yet, so we'll stick to the formality', she said. That, she thought, and I haven't spoken to a friend in a few years, so formal is all I've got. 'I'll send you the address, and let you know within a week'. Deadlines were good for clarity, she thought.

The twins didn't really seem to notice.

'Right, so we'll book a table for the Time Turner on Friday at 7pm. You can join us for dinner, we'll hear your decision, and then we'll have cocktails or whatever beverage you fancy.' Said George.

'How does that sound?' Fred questioned.

Rather than responding, Hermione nodded, putting a quick enchantment on her letter to stick it to her wand, before retuning it once again to her holster. She stood, with a small smile for both of them, and went to leave.

'Oy Granger!' She heard, before she reached the door. She turned to see Fred grinning at her.

'Just an idea, but we don't have to waste a good hotel room. I could always kick the less-blessed-with-looks-twin off of the balcony and we could have a fun night in.' He offered cheekily, waggling his eyebrow suggestively.

The tension broke. Hermione burst out laughing.

She didn't respond to his offer, but continued to laugh as she left the room, a wave to the boys before she did.


End file.
